She called Him, Nightstalker
by FrozenTech
Summary: How a pair of Runners out of Seattle met for the first time, the beginning of a long, and tumultuous relationship.


A/N: This is an introductory piece I wrote for a pair of characters played in a long running Shadow Run Campaign. I enjoyed it so much that I've slowly started to turn it into a novella, though that has been going especially slowly. While doing some research for the novella I came across this that I'd written some time ago. After making some alterations (such as removing references to one character names before they are revealed by the characters, or others – just sorta a style choice) I decided it post it up here and see what people think about it. If people like it, I'll probably put my work in progress Novella up, along with some other fiction dealing with these characters, and this world. So, without further adieu – please enjoy :)

Edit - I corrected a minor oversight of mine where a first name that isn't supposed to be out there was still in the fic. Thanks to the commentator who caught it. And yes, Devin is O'Connor's first name. One of them, anyway.

--

--You there?-- the unfamiliar voice asked, a soft feminine purr in his ear.

"Onsite. I'm about 3 yards from the outer fence. You cleaned site security yet?" he replied quietly via his voice activated lip mic as his hands checked his equipment for what felt like the hundredth time

--Ages ago… well… five minutes or so. The site's computerized systems all belong to me at the moment. You're clear – I'll watch your back.-- the voice responded

Well that's comforting, he thought to himself as he slid close to the fence and pulling a small set of cutters from under his coat he started to clip his way through. He heard the whine of a nearby camera and froze – speaking quietly, "I thought you said you had security locked up…"

--I do. I just trying to get a look at who I'm working with. You can call me Sabre – you got a name? Salvatore wasn't exactly forth coming with information on you.-- The voice purred back. The man on the camera did his best to ignore the slightly sultry undertone.

"No." He responded as he finished opening a hole in the fence. Sliding through he turned back and closed the fence back up – he'd use it to exfiltrate if possible, and close it with some wire at that point. For now – it would pass casual inspection. Slinking forward Sabre sighed in his ear... --Well that won't do… I need something to call you.--

Flattening himself against the wall of the building he slid towards his entrance, "Not really," he whispered, "There's only supposed to be two of us on this channel… I'm almost at the door."

--I see that. The door is cycling, it'll be open for you in 2 seconds. Don't miss your window… Nightstalker. There – now you have a name, given by me. Hope you like it.--

The Stalker didn't respond to the prod as the door light flipped green. Sliding it open quietly he slipped inside, and took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the brighter environment. The facility was closed currently – so lighting was dimmed, but it was certainly brighter then it was out doors. He was in a wide corridor and if his information was correct, about 100 meters, as the rat crawls, from his goal. His ears picked up the sound of another camera turning in his direction..

--Hmm tall with a trend to the black. If it wasn't for the coat I'd be afraid you had no fashion sense. Too bad you're wearing that mask. I'd love to get a better look.--

Stalker murmured, his voice easily picked up by the sensitive mic, "Keep your mind on the job Sabre. I'm moving – what's the status of the guards?"

--Only four - I should be able to guide you around them easily enough - two on patrol, and one at a desk at each of the two primary entrances. You're clear up to turn two.-- Was the reply with a slightly exasperated tone, as if it was a given she could do what he'd ask with her eyes closed and both hands tied behind her back… just to make it fair.

He shook his head and moved, his feet silent as a wraith as he moved down the hallway. His target was the onsite supercomputer. Kept off the matrix Ares used this for some of its less important but secure research. His employer wanted that research, intact or in pieces – though the former was preferred. He'd been teamed with Sabre to provide him a route inside – and keep the local security corp quiet while he handled the onsite work.

He hadn't had a chance to run a full check on Sabre before the run – but he would as soon as he got back and had a chance to contact a few folks and call in a few marks – Salvatore had indicated he would end up running a few jobs with her if this job went well… and he hated unknowns.

Coming up to the corner he paused, hand on his pistol as he glanced around the corner, it was clear as promised

--What? You don't think I can give directions?-- The sarcasm dripped from the voice in his ear.

Keeping quiet he headed towards the next corner, glancing each way again. Taking a left he headed towards the research area...

--Fraggin! Stalker, find some cover, there's a desk guard heading your way… looks like he's got a weak bladder.--

He glanced left and right – the hall he was in was devoid of any doors except the two to the restrooms and a couple of vending machines. "…Can I go back?"

--No! The patrolling guard is heading your way he'll be at your locale in 20 seconds. Find something!--

Moving forward Stalker ducked into the men's restroom and headed for one of the stalls, "Sabre – if I give you the word, lock down their outside communications. This might get messy."

--What? Don't do anything stupid!!--

"Don't ask questions – just do what I tell you when I tell you and we'll get through this clean." he whispered as he stepped into a stall and closed the door. Sitting down on the toilet seat he drew his pistol and pointed it at the door to the stall. If he was lucky the guard wouldn't notice his feet and he'd be in and out to do his business – no troubles.

Silence reigned for a moment and then the door creaked. Holding his breath he waited. The guard strolled in and stopped near the urinal… two long minutes ticked by as he did his business and moved to the wash station. "Carl? That you?"

Stalker cursed silently and decided to try to bluff his way out. Clearing his throat fairly hard he crossed his fingers.

"Sheesh – it's not like I'm askin ya what size your business is or anything. Just making sure ya know? Anyway – breaks in twenty for you – don't take to long the boss likes to review the tapes." With that the guard turned and left.

He breathed out and holstered his pistol… and murmured, "Well that was close."

--Umm… maybe too close. I think your friend just ran into Carl.-- Sabre replied in his ear

"Bloody hell. Sabre lock down communications - NOW!" Stalker ordered as he stepped out of the stall and drew his pistol, staying to the side of the door so he'd have a clear shot

--Its done… they're coming in…--

He didn't reply as the door was kicked open, the first guard leading with his sidearm. Things went bloody as his first two shots hit the desk guard, the first in the chest and the second in the head, toppling him backwards into his cohort – dead. Stepping sideways Stalker moved out of the line of fire as the patrol guard fought to clear his gun arm of the corpse of his comrade

Bringing his gun up as the guard came back into his line of sight he fired again, the Browning Max Power sounding impossibly loud in his hands as the bullets slammed into the man's chest, partly slowed by the ballistic vest he wore the man still dropped to a knee from the shots, trying to bring his gun in line with the infiltrator. Stalker's third shot blew out the back of his head – ending his threat.

Stepping into the hall he activated the release for his pistol's magazine via smartlink and caught the falling magazine in his off hand, dropped it into one of the cavernous pockets of his lined coat duster – one bullet remaining in the magazine – the other still in the pipe and slammed home a fresh mag from one of his belt pouches while scanning the hall way in both directions. "Sabre – where are the other two guards?"

--Ah…-- came the stunned reply, --I ah.. hang on.--

"Damn it woman, I need to know… now!" Stalker hissed and headed for his objective, at a jog, pistol at the ready.

--I think the guards have bio-monitors set to the primary corp network – a security rigger is attempting to access the network… so I'm a little busy. Last look had the patrolling guard heading for the front desk station – and the rear desk guard attempting to dial out to an emergency number….--

He growled and rounded the corner to the research wing – as promised the door to the research wing, and its stand alone computer was guarded by a heavy vault like door secured with multiple mag locks and re-enforced with 3 inch carbon steel bolts. It required an 8 digit keypad entry, and a thumb print – or a remote command from the security network. Sabre was supposed to provide that – but with her busy keeping the rigger from gaining control of the local security network Devin was left with no other alternative but to use his backup solution.

Opening the flap of his leather messenger bag he pulled out a can that looked a lot like an aerosol spray can for shaving cream. Pressing the nozzle into the door frame he squeezed the button on top and traced around the door, leaving a two inch wide green line behind. Finished he hefted the can – it was almost empty – and acquiring more was never easy since he'd left the UCAS's employ. Slapping a prepared detonator in place he retreated half way down the hall, palming the detonation remote just long enough to hit the firing stud.

Half a second later the explosive blew out the majority of the surrounding wall support – and the heavy vault door fell to the ground under its own weight. Knowing the noise would bring the two remaining guards Stalker sprinted for the door to his goal… and nearly got his head taken off as a burst from a submachine gun raked the door frame.

Diving to the floor he rolled, coming up in a crouch inside the research wing his weapon looking for a target he grunted as a second burst hit him from the side. His coat and the ballistic vest beneath it absorbed the shock – but it still felt like getting hit with a sledge hammer. Shifting his aim he fired at the security officer, his shot hitting the man in the knee, turning he fired at the second officer in the room, the first to fire – this time his shot hitting home, right below the man's left eye.

Rising up he kicked the gun from the hand of the security officer, who was trying to clutch his knee and bring his weapon up at the same time. Without a second thought he put another round into the man's head – ending his agony, and his threat to Stalker's well being.

Pausing a moment to pick up the dead man's weapon he hefted it – a cheap Ares knock off of a superior Heckler and Koch subgun it still gave him a distinct advantage in the present environment – especially since if he didn't miss his guess, Ares security had been scrambled the moment their security rigger had been unable to access the system. He should have known that with a company like Ares there would be a subsystem – even for this relatively un-important location. And it looked like his overwatch had missed it.

Picking up three spare magazine's for the weapon from the guard's tac vest he ejected the partially expended mag and slapped home a fresh one before picking his own pistol back up and sliding it into its holster at his hip. Pulling the subgun's charging handle back Stalker left the selector on bust fire and headed into the lab, careful to watch for a second ambush – but there was none - just the stand alone terminal.

Keeping an ear towards the door for the local security that had to be coming his way, he located the terminal's drive rack – which mounted four large capacity optical storage drives in quick release connectors. The drives themselves were fairly small – about 5 inches long by 3 inches wide, and maybe an inch deep. Hitting the quick disconnects he pulled the drives one at a time and slipped them into specially lined pockets in his messenger bag where they fit snugly. Closing the flap on the bag he turned towards the door, bringing his weapon back in line as he moved out in a tactical walk. "Package secured. Making exit."

--You've got 2 minutes Nightstalker….-- Sabre's voice came back pained, as if she was exerting a large amount of energy towards something, --The rigger's brought in a decker and they're throwing some heavy ice. I can hold on for that long… but no longer. At 2 minutes I'm wiping the security mainframe onsite and everything is going to lock down and reset – so you best move.--

"Understood – I'll be clear." Stalker answered as he moved into the hall. He still hadn't run into any security – but that was bound to change. To give them a little something more to deal with, he reached down and pulled cylinder grenade off his belt. The pin had been wired to his harness and when he pulled it free it came out – leaving him holding the grenade inert simply by the spoon. Under handing the grenade into the research area he turned and jogged back the way he came – behind him the white phosphorus grenade exploded setting everything it touched alight. As Stalker turned the corner sharp pops were heard as the ammunition in the dead guard's vests started to cook off.

One turn from the entrance he'd made ingress through he heard the sound of pounding feet .

Dropping to a crouch a couple yards back from the intersecting hall Stalker brought up his pilfered subgun – and settled his eye behind the iron sights.

The two guards came charging around hall, both with guns up – but neither really ready to fire – and moment of surprise was all he needed as the first burst stitched the left most guard from groin to neck. Shifting aim he fired again, but this burst was less precise – and the knock off subgun jammed after the second bullet. One struck the second guard in the gut – but didn't penetrate his armour.

Hissing a curse he dropped the worthless weapon as the guard fired twice. The first bullet went wide as he dodged to the side – tearing a hole in an unarmored panel of his duster the second clipped his vest bounced off one of the ceramic plates and left a line along one rib.

Rolling to his feet Stalker drew and fired his Browning Max Power – both shots hitting the guard in the upper chest and driving him back against the wall. Rising to his feet he finished the job with a final shot to the head.

--You've got 45 seconds Stalker…--

Glancing back once Stalker took off in a sprint towards the exit door – the fire behind him was growing in intensity – he hit the door with 20 seconds to spare, his gun up as he left the building, looking for a target – his eyes adjusting to the dimmer light after a moment or two. Jogging towards the fence where he had entered he heard siren's in the distance, "Package clear. Job's done – get out of there Sabre."

--I'm gone--

The rest of the escape had gone without a hitch, as Knight Errant and the Ares contracted Fire brigade arrived around the same time – causing no small amount of confusion and allowing a single motorcycle rider to slip out of the area un-noticed.

Two nights later at a popular nightclub on the water front of the Seattle Sprawl the man Sabre referred to as Stalker dropped into a booth near the back, and settled in to wait. Salvatore had asked to meet here to collect payment – and he had already delivered the drives to a safe deposit box that the Johnson had requested. If he had anything to say about it – Salvatore would be handing over at least double the cash. He'd had to expend assets he hadn't planned on using for the job – and the level of violence that had been required was about three times higher then he had been originally led to believe. While he hadn't liked Sabre's lack of professionalism, he had to hope she'd gotten out ok. He'd seen what could happen to deckers who didn't make it out – it wasn't pretty.

Just as he'd ordered a drink from a passing waiter drone he spotted Salvatore – a rather short and oily Latino human heading his way, a striking elven woman – who was taller then him by a good 4 inches, and turned the head of nearly every man in the club – on his arm.

Slotting his credstick to pay for his drink he waited until Salvatore started to sit down before speaking, "I thought you asked me here for business Salvatore… what's with the baggage?"

Salvatore chuckled as he sat, and the man noticed the elf was surreptitiously wiping off her arm where it had been hooked with the fixer's before sitting down. "The 'baggage' as you so eloquently put it is fairly expensive – and as part of her fee she insisted she be allowed to meet you O'Connor."

That brought a frown to O'Connor's face as he dragged a hand through his hair, which was shorn short – he was still growing it out after his discharge.

Across from him the woman smirked, running her tongue over her teeth momentarily before speaking. "So you're Stalker. You're…. Better looking then I gave you credit for – didn't have you pegged as an elf though."

"Sabre." O'Connor said, his voice flat.

"The one and only, I took a five percent hit to get to meet you – but I think it was worth it, over all." She replied, her voice the same sultry purr it had been the first time he heard it

"Speaking of payment…" Salvatore interrupted, sliding a credstick towards O'Connor, "Mr. Johnson was quite pleased with your work, the fire was a nice touch by the way, and he's generously added fifty percent to the original fee."

O'Connor placed a finger on the edge of the credstick , "Better make it double Salvatore – for the both of us."

"What? The terms were already agreed to!" Salvatore protested, "And you've already delivered the goods."

"Indeed. However we were not fully informed as to the extent of the defenses arrayed against us and this put the both of us in a far larger degree of danger then the Johnson was paying for. We got out ok – and now if you don't want Sabre to start spreading the word on Shadowland that you're not pulling your weight as a fixer… you'll double the original amount and take it up with the Johnson yourself." He stated, his voice still flat, "And a word in the right ear and I'm sure Knight Errant might just find out where the stolen property was left… which might make life less then pleasant for the Johnson… and probably for you. So what'll it be Salvatore?"

Across from O'Connor, Salvatore ground his teeth – then pulled out a credstick and hit a pair of keys. The credstick under his finger beeped, "Twenty five percent more to the both of you – and not a nuyen more… take it or leave it."

O'Connor glanced at Sabre and she shrugged slightly, "A pleasure doing business with you Salvatore – as always."

The fixer grumbled a moment, then replied, "You'd best watch yourself O'Connor – one of these days you might end up with a fixer who isn't as understanding as me."

"Or, I might end up with a fixer who doesn't try to skim the most off the top of his runner's cuts as he can," O'Connor replied, "Or I suppose they might figure out how to get pigs to fly. But until then – I'm sure I'll be just fine. Anything more you need Salvatore?"

"Just that an associate of mine had mentioned he had a job that I think the two of you would be perfect for." Salvatore tossed piece flimsy scrip on the table, a cell number scrawled on it. "He calls himself the Fat Man – he's a fixer and he's looking for new talent. I think the two of you should look him up."

With that the fixer pushed himself out of his seat and turned to leave, "And not just because he's looking. I don't think I want to find you anymore work O'Connor – you're too expensive for your rep."

He shrugged, "Have it your way Salvatore." Glancing down at the number he took a fresh pull from his ale.

"Well… that was… unexpected." Sabre stated as she pulled out her cell phone and entered the number off the flimsy, "I hope you didn't get me put on his black list too."

O'Connor shrugged and pulled out his PDA to enter the number himself, "My apologies if it did – but he underpaid for the job – so I assume he under paid the both of us. And I don't like being shorted."

"Well his intel was a bit foggy, but it wasn't completely bad… oh well. You did recover my five percent, and earn me another twenty on top of that so I suppose a girl shouldn't be picky." She looked him up and down once. "So tell me – do you dance? I played back your little run through that place after it went to hell – you're pretty light on your feet, even for an elf… it might be fun to…"

"No, I don't. At least – not with those with which I do business." He replied, cutting her off. Finishing his ale he rose to leave

Sabre pouted, something O'Connor suspected she had to practice to look quite that hurt so easily, "Aw – just a dance. It won't hurt anything."

"Its rule one – and I always follow my rules Sabre – it keeps me breathing. Perhaps we'll get paired up on this job for the Fat Man. If not – it was nice working with you – you do decent work." Pushing himself out of the booth he headed for the door

"Wait! O'Connor… do you have a first name?" Sabre called out.

Turning slightly he smirked, "Yes, but you'll just have to find that one out for yourself." With that he turned back towards the door and got lost in the crowd.

Behind him, Sabre turned to watch him go, a slightly dejected look on her face, "What kind of man turns me down?" she murmured to herself…

(Ending Note – Hmmm apparently FFN doesn't like tildes, which is my standard way of indicating radio transmission… I guess -- -- will have to do in its stead.)


End file.
